Chapter 52
The High General of the Astolan Citadel led the charge on the defeat of the Astolan rebels, leading to a glorious triumph and execution of the traitors who were responsible for so many deaths.
This signaled our war cry to the remainder of the rebels—our Empire, and our Empress, was not to be trifled with.
—The History of Astola by Henry Wiltshire
Yaseema
You’re wearing Queen Azari’s crown on your arm.
Her words didn’t make any sense to me, and I stared down at the bracelets on my arm.
My pulse was racing against the cool metal of the bangles.
My other hand reached up to trace the jasmine that had formed when the three bracelets had been put together, just like the peri in the bazaar had told me about.
It was Azari’s symbol, traced in intricate detail.
The bangles snapped together to form one large cuff, the gold shining as though it was new.
A trickle of hope begun to dispel the despair.
“It was melted down,” my mother whispered, her voice cracking at the edges, a low rasp, since her true voice hadn’t been heard in years.
I closed my eyes at hearing it, remembering all the times she’d sung to me, whispered warnings about the fae, words of advice and love.
“Your father stole Queen Azari’s crown from the Empress, who had got it in a bargain made with the fae.
I melted it down and turned it into three bangles.
But we knew we couldn’t keep them together, especially if the Empress found out.
So your father sent one across the River.
I crossed the River to find it.” She looked from me to the Queen.
“And I did—a churail had it and gave it back to me. But before I could come home, the Salt army stopped me, accusing me of being a rebel and the Viceroy cursed me before I could cross the River again.”
“Until Yaseema came,” said the Queen, her soft gaze alighting on me.
“Who are you?” asked my mother, the confusion written on her face as she watched Kiyan’s mother. “I don’t recognize you.”
“Likely not, I’ve been gone for a long time. I’m the Queen of the Court of River.”
My mother clutched her hand to her chest. “The one trapped in Tirich Mir?”
“The very same. Until your daughter freed me.” She turned a warm glance on me that reminded me so much of Kiyan that I swallowed the thick knot in my throat.
“Not me,” I said, my voice wavering. “Someone else deserves that credit.”
And he was currently locked away in the Mountain with no possibility of escape.
I’d found my mother, but I’d lost Kiyan, and the pit in my stomach sat heavy and consuming.
Except now I had the crown, and I could finally use it.
On the wall, and for him.
Light the River on fire.
His last words to me. Perhaps ever.
No, I would hear his voice again.
If there was one thing I knew, it was that nothing was impossible. I would find a way.
Light the River on fire.
I didn’t have to be told twice.
I lifted my wrist, the bangles gleaming together in the moonlight, and I felt my magic call to it.
Before, when I’d used the bangles, they had merged with my magic so seamlessly that a light tug was all it took to come tumbling out of my fingers. But now, with the last piece of the crown complete, it felt like part of me. The magic flowed without thought, as if it were the power I was born with.
I could feel the difference, the immense power that had come with the crown, an object that an ancient peri Queen had poured all her life magic into before death. It cascaded from my hands, and I aimed it toward the barrier in the River with only one purpose.
Destroy the wall.
I closed my eyes, feeling rather than seeing the barrier that blocked the human world from the peri one.
I was going to destroy every last piece of the wall and flood the human world with magic.
And I wasn’t just going to take the Citadel down, but the entire Empire with it.
Light the River on fire.
Yes.
The barrier resisted my magic at first, until it recognized the bangles on my wrist. I felt it sigh, as if greeting an old friend, before opening, letting me in, letting me rip it apart.
I opened my eyes to see the river burning, twisting—the magical border being eaten by green flames.
Golden threads of my own magic mingled with a luminous light from Azari’s bangles, catching the wall in their grasp and flooding it with power.
“What do we do when the wall comes down?” asked my mother, watching the barrier slowly begin to crumble, as if invisible bricks fell one by one into the water below.
“We bring down the Empire responsible for our pain,” I said, the words flooding out of me like the magic flowing from my fingertips.
“We take back Astola.” I looked over to the Queen, Kiyan’s mother, who was watching me with her bright eyes. “And we free Kiyan from the Mountain.”